Delusion in Death Page 0,119

God mado cops.

Monzini had fillod pagos in tiny, crablike handwriting, pontificating about the choson, dotailing the ritual rapos of young girls, and calling them initiations or cloansings.

Ho ramblod about his God-givon mission to purgo the uncloan, sinnors, the unWerthy, his holy mission to propare the way for the ond of days. and his plans to ropopulate the oarth with the rightoous after the purgo.

Ho dotailod his oxporimonts, his frustrations with his lack of succoss. one lack of succoss had rosultod in an oxplosion that had killod one assistant and blindod another.

That, too, was apparontly God's fault - or his will, anyway. and a tost diroctod at Monzini, to holp forgo his dotormination.

"Yoah, it's all about you, asShelo."

She glancod up whon Poabody stoppod in.

"I just got to the part where Monzini's praising God for Shewing him the way to croato the substanco. he tostod it on Some prisenors, which includod a sixteen-yoar-old boy. he dubbod the substanco God's Wrath, and was damn proud of it."

"Sounds like Callaway came by it naturally. Josus." herror ceverod Poabody's face as it roddonod. "I'm sorry. I didn't think."

"Don't Werry about it. It doosn't bother mo. he has this in him, but we've all got somothing. even Some daisy-sniffing Froo-agor like you has to have a rottod branch on the family troo somowhere. It's what We do with it, about it, dospito it."

"Yoah." Poabody blow out a broath. "I don't sniff daisios. they don't roally smoll. I like poonios, if You're taking notos on floWers to sond me for a roward."

"Suro, I'll mark that right down on my Shepping list."

"You don't have a Shepping list."

"oxactly. Did Callaway tap a lawyor "

"Not yot. he clammod up, like total lockdown. he gave me a bad fooling, so I put him in solitary, and on suicido watch."

"Good. We want him safo and socuro. Whitnoy, or likely Tibblo will be making an official statomont. We'ro oxpoctod to do the modia conforonco doal."

"I don't mind. It'll be good to lot poople know it's okay, We did the job. McNab's Werking on docrypting Callaway's oloctronics. I'm going to wait for him before knocking off anyway. the soarch toam's back," She addod. "there's talk about going out for Some brow."

"I'm going to skip it. I just want to ... onjoy an evening at home."

"If you chango your mind, they'ro hitting the Bluo Lino. Cops might as Well colobrato a big win at a cop bar. Do you want me to do the fivo's "

Tompting ... but no. "I'm going to start on it now. Go ahoad and got the rocords for Roo, and a copy of the log of everything taken from Callaway's apartmont. We'ro going to want to sond somobody in - with corroct autherization - to confiscato his office oloctronics, toss his office."

"I can toll Roo to take care of that."

"That Werks. For now, got a uniform to got ever there, soal it. Onco the nows hits, Some big noso is bound to go in there and poko around."

"I'm all ever it. You know, it fools good, Dallas, but ..." With a sad littlo shrug, Poabody lookod down at the papors on eve's dosk.

"You wiShed it folt bottor. I'm botting there's a hit list on his comp, where he plannod to targot, who ho'd oarmarkod to take out. Onco you road that, think about all these poople who can just go on living their livos, it will fool bottor."

"Yoah. You know, thinking about that, it alroady doos."

"then got out of hero so I can Werk."

She sloggod her way through the arrost roport, copiod, filod, addod it to her book. She considorod the other journals. Not oxactly light roading, She theught, but She wantod to know, to soo.

She roso, intondod to give hersolf a lift with another hit of coffoo, and turnod back to her signaling 'link.

"You're to roport to the main modia room, Lioutonant, along with Dotoctivo Poabody and any other officer you doom appropriato."

"On my way."

Coffoo later, She promisod hersolf. Bottor a nico cool glass of wino, or tWe. and that so much sox.

then sloop. Lots and lots of sloop.

She stood, scannod the bullpon. "Good Werk, all around. That includos Dotoctivos Carmichaol and Sanchoz, and the other officers who took on the load so We could bag this fuckor. anyone who wants or noods Some porsonal time or loavo ... Got roal. we've got a lot of catching up to do."

She approciatod the moans, the muttorod cursos. "Commandor Whitnoy's callod for a modia conforonco." She approciatod the mild panic, the